The Oasis (64 page)

“Is it Kamose’s sweet blood? No, it is not. I struck Meketra twice. It is his life I wear on my sheath and I must confess, Aahmes-nefertari, that I glory in doing so. When his body begins to rot, I will have it carried out onto the desert for the hyenas to devour.”

“But the gods will not find him, to judge or to save,” Aahmes-nefertari blurted out. “His ka will be lost.” Aahotep walked to the doorway.

“Good,” she said vehemently. “I do not care one bit. Sit with Ahmose. Talk to him. Pray for him. I am going to fling myself onto my couch and sleep the sleep of the fully justified.”

“You saved his life, Mother,” Aahmes-nefertari said softly, and saw the other woman’s face darken.

“If I and the two soldiers had been by the path just a little sooner, we might have saved Kamose also,” she said bitterly. “My husband and my son, both victims of the accursed Setiu. When Ahmose leaves his couch, I will make him swear to bind Apepa and throw him into the fire Het-Uart will become.” She lifted both caked hands to her face then let them drop to her sides. “Forgive me, Aahmes-nefertari,” she murmured. “I am not myself.” The girl heard her step going away down the passage and turned to Ahmose’s inert form. When he leaves his couch, she repeated silently, and bending over him she studied him carefully.

The blow had struck him just above the right ear. He was lying on his left side, facing her, breathing lightly and noisily, one limp arm bent over the sheet that had been drawn up to his waist. There was a sheen of sweat on his skin. The oil in the greyish salve the physician had applied had melted a little and run into the stiff mat of his curly hair, and taking a square of damp linen from the bowl on the table Aahmes-nefertari gently wiped it away. He did not stir at her touch. His pallor was alarming. “You must not die, my dearest,” she told him in a low voice. “Egypt needs you, but I need you more. If you do not recover, I will be forced to don helmet and gloves and lead the army north myself. Can you imagine a more hopeless and ridiculous sight? Ahmose-onkh has lost one father. Must he lose another? Can you hear me, Ahmose? Do my words echo in your dreams?”

Taking his hand, she began to stroke it and thought that if more tears must come it should be now, but she had emptied herself of such a feminine response to disaster behind the acacia bushes. Something told her that she would not weep again over the things that could not be changed. What was the use? The gods decreed the destinies of men and only by accepting their edicts with the greatest courage, by not turning aside into the fallow and comfortable fields of self-pity and inaction, could those directives be transformed into advantage. Sitting in that quiet room, her eyes on her wounded husband, her mind slowly filling with a new implacability, Aahmes-nefertari shed the last vestige of the diffident, rather timid girl she had been.

18

ALL THAT AFTERNOON
and far into the night Aahmes-nefertari sat by her husband’s side but there was no change in his condition. Several times the physician had come to wipe away the salve, inspect his stitches, and reapply his mixture and in the end Aahmes-nefertari, completely exhausted, had turned over her watch to Akhtoy and crawled onto her couch. Only when she was certain that the rebellious Princes were safely incarcerated and their troops confined to barracks had she sent to the temple for her children. They had returned to the nursery with an equally tired Raa. Aahmes-nefertari had allowed the nurse to rest and had put Senehat in charge of the two.

Nefer-Sakharu, closely guarded, had been hustled to the prison. She had protested indignantly all the way but Ankhmahor, coming to Ahmose’s bedchamber to enquire after His Highness’s progress, told Aahmes-nefertari that a knife had been found concealed in the woman’s voluminous sheath and had of course been taken away from her. Nefer-Sakharu had insisted that she had been woken by the sound of scuffles in the passage outside her room and when she had gone to the door she had seen the dead Followers. Frightened, she had snatched up a knife and run from the house, making her way to the temple as the only safe place she could reach on foot. Her story varied from the one she had told Amunmose, that she had been sent by Aahmes-nefertari to help protect the children, and besides, as Aahmes-nefertari pointed out to Ankhmahor, no Follower had fallen near enough to the women’s quarters to have woken anyone.

“Is it possible,” she had said to the Prince, “that her role in the uprising was to kill Ahmose-onkh? If Kamose and Ahmose had been dealt with, that only left one royal male. The conspirators would know that in order to totally succeed, every male Tao must die.” Ankhmahor hesitated.

“It is a serious accusation, Highness,” he reminded her carefully. “There is no proof of such a heinous plot.”

“We have Senehat’s evidence of the woman’s hatred,” Aahmes-nefertari retorted. “And there is no doubt that she lied regarding her movements last night. I will take no further chances with her, Ankhmahor. She must stand with the Princes to be judged.”

“The execution of noblemen will send tremors of insecurity throughout the army as well as the citizenry,” he pointed out. “Those men who had been prepared to join the rebellion, whose sense of discernment had been swayed, will fear the same fate. That is bad enough. But to shoot a woman …” He spread out his hands. “Such an act will shock Egypt and you will run the risk of losing much support.”

“Well, what alternative do we have?” Aahmes-nefertari flared, too tired for diplomacy. “We must show as strongly as possible that we are in control and we intend to remain so. If that means ruthlessness, then we will be ruthless, and sleep all the better at night for knowing that once again the seedling of betrayal has been rooted out. Once again, Ankhmahor.” She rose from her stool beside the couch but did not let go of her husband’s limp hand. “Ever since my father chose to move against Apepa out of pure desperation, we have fought the invisible tentacles of treachery. Too often the enemy has worn the smiling face of a trusted servant, even a relative. I am so sick of having our kindness rewarded with perfidy, our dream for a liberated Egypt obstructed by men who speak fair but have deceit in their hearts. How do we cling to an ability to trust?” Her shoulders slumped and she ran a shaking hand through her sticky hair. “Look at what trust has done to Kamose, to my husband! If you can propose a solution other than execution for all of them I am willing to hear it.”

“You are right,” Ankhmahor admitted reluctantly, “and as yet I can think of no alternative. But, Highness, should we not wait until Ahmose recovers before any irretrievable decision is made? What would His Highness want to do?” She gave a strange, twisted smile and sank back onto the stool.

“His Highness has always argued for moderation,” she said huskily. “You of all people know this, Ankhmahor. Throughout Kamose’s campaigns it has been my husband who pleaded for clemency, for restraint. The anger of a man who offers water to someone who is thirsty, only to be slapped in the face for his kindness will be far greater than that of the man who ignores a beggar’s need and is promptly attacked. I promise you that when Ahmose opens his eyes he will want vengeance, and it will begin with extermination. I will consult with my mother and grandmother of course, but you may be assured that they will share my desire for the death of Intef and Iasen. Perhaps for Mesehti and Makhu also. We shall see.” He obviously had no answer to that. She could see the truth of her words in his face. Sighing, he asked to be dismissed.

Aahmes-nefertari slept fitfully in spite of her weariness, waking still tired to the following dawn. A bath refreshed her a little and a small meal even more. After opening her shrine and praying for her husband’s recovery, she visited the children, sent Senehat back to Ramose’s quarters, spoke to the physician, who had nothing new to tell her, and made her way to her grandmother’s rooms. As she approached, Uni came to his feet before the closed door and bowed. She greeted him absently. “Highness, please try to persuade my mistress to take some nourishment,” he asked her, his brow furrowed with concern. “She has eaten nothing since His Majesty’s body was carried into the house but she is drinking too much wine.”

“Where is my mother?” Aahmes-nefertari wanted to know, aware of the usual tiny spasm of apprehension at the prospect of confronting Tetisheri.

“I believe she has gone to the prison this morning,” he replied. “She wished to speak with the Lady Nefer-Sakharu.”

“I see.” Even a month ago I would have shrunk from facing Grandmother alone, Aahmes-nefertari thought, but I can do it now. I can do many things now. Uni held the door open for her and she walked through.

Tetisheri’s shrine was also open, an incense burner set before it sending out wreaths of bitter grey smoke that filled the shuttered space with a choking haze. Aahmes-nefertari, coughing, went at once to the window hanging and raised it. Plumes of burning myrrh flowed past her as she turned back. Isis had just finished straightening the linen on Tetisheri’s couch and Tetisheri herself was sitting beside it, a cup full of wine clenched in both hands and a half-full flagon on the table. A dish of fresh bread, figs and brown cheese lay untouched on the floor. The servant looked harried. “Isis, bring hot water and cloths,” Aahmes-nefertari instructed her. “Your mistress needs washing. Hurry up.”

With a glance of pure relief Isis left and Aahmes-nefertari went to the old lady, prying the cup from her fingers and tossing its contents out the window. Tetisheri did not protest. She watched her granddaughter with a languid gaze and Aahmes-nefertari realized that Tetisheri was more than a little drunk. Picking up the dish from the floor, she selected a fig and held it out. “Eat, Grandmother,” she insisted. “You must have some nourishment.” Tetisheri blinked slowly.

“I can smell Meketra,” she said with exaggerated care. “I could smell the stink of sedition on him when he was alive and now I inhale the stink of his corruption.” Aahmes-nefertari placed the fig on her palm.

“I am going to close your shrine now,” she said distinctly, “and empty the incense burner. Put the fig in your mouth, Tetisheri.”

“I don’t want food,” Tetisheri said, wrinkling up her nose like a stubborn child. “I have been praying for Kamose. But praying for Kamose is not as good as praying with him, is it?” Aahmes-nefertari had gone to the shrine and shut its gilded doors. The incense had gone out of its own accord. Turning back, she saw tears dribbling down Tetisheri’s lined cheeks and felt a stab of panic. This was the woman with a will that had never been broken. Hers was the rigid backbone against which all of them measured their own strength. If Tetisheri snaps, we will be completely adrift, Mother and I, she thought. I cannot cope with this! Squatting in front of her grandmother, she retrieved the fig and took both gnarled hands in her own.

“Kamose is dead,” she said emphatically. “Even at this moment he lies under the knives and hooks of the sempriests. No amount of wine will bring him back to us, Tetisheri. No prayers will usher him through your door. I loved him also and I grieve for my loss, but Ahmose still lives. Do you not care about him?”

“No,” Tetisheri replied tonelessly. “Not now, not today. I am tired of carrying so much weight, Aahmes-nefertari, tired of my own strength. Let me alone.”

“Then do you no longer care about Egypt’s fate?” Aahmes-nefertari persisted. “Ahmose will be King when the seventy days of mourning for Kamose are over. Does it not matter to you that Egypt still has a King?” Tetisheri took her fingers from Aahmes-nefertari’s grip.

“Yes, it matters,” she said. “But that King is not Kamose. It should be Kamose. You should have married him, not his brother.” Aahmes-nefertari had to stifle a sudden urge to take her by her frail shoulders and shake her viciously.

“There are decisions to be made regarding the fate of the Princes,” she said deliberately. “Mother and I need your advice, Tetisheri, we need all your faculties.” Tetisheri turned glazed eyes upon her.

“What is there to decide?” she slurred. “Kill them all. Send them to the Judgement Hall and let Sobek crunch their bones.” Aahmes-nefertari came to her feet and stood with hands on hips, looking down on her grandmother.

“You will be washed and you will drink some milk and then you will sleep off your drunkenness,” she ordered. “I will send the physician to you to see that you have not made yourself ill. We are all suffering, Tetisheri. We should be used to it by now, shouldn’t we? But I for one am not.” I do not want to be the strong one, she wanted to add. That has always been you. Please come back to us, Tetisheri.

At that moment Uni opened the door to admit Isis and another servant bearing a steaming bowl and towels. Aahmes-nefertari addressed the steward. “If I am needed, I will be at the prison,” she told him. “Your mistress is to be washed and given milk and put back to bed. Do not let her argue with you, Uni. Not this time. Isis can fetch the physician. Leave the window uncovered. The air in here is very stale.”

I am furious with you, Tetisheri, she thought as she strode through the house. Furious and hurt. Kamose was the one brilliant star in your black sky, so bright to your dazzled, selfish old eye that you could not see the lesser star burning close to it. Was it a genuine love you felt for him, or a greedy possessiveness that came into full flower when Father died? Perhaps you cannot love. Perhaps Kamose simply fitted the mould of kingship and character you had devised in your own mind, and Ahmose did not. I ache on your behalf, my dearest husband, and my whole soul cries out its loss for you, my Kamose, yet I am denied the indulgence of grief. There is too much to do. I will never forgive Grandmother this self-pitying lapse. Our lives still hang in the balance and breaking the seals on wine jars will not save us. So her mind raced on, churning with the chaos of her emotions, until she came to the outer gate of Kamose’s prison, answered the challenge of the guards to either side, and walking through, saw Ramose coming towards her over the hard-packed earth before the door.